Sweet Surrender
by Iloveplotbunnies
Summary: I want to see just how human Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J Now Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**S****weet**** S****urrender**

**Outside** Summary: "I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _The Mentalist_ or Sarah McLachlan's song _Sweet Surrender_.

**Spoilers**: Following immediately 2x08 or "His Right Red Hand"

"_It doesn't mean much; it doesn't mean anything at all."_

Her green eyes fluttered open to meet the darkness and a soft groan flew past her dry, cracked lips; a tight weight had been set on both her wrists, her feet and her abdomen holding her in an upright position against something hard and narrow, which pressed into her back. She shifted slightly in her spot to find that whatever weight had set upon her wasn't a weight; but rather chains snaked across her body to keep her from escaping.

"Hello Teresa." The voice registered dimly in her mind; it wasn't a harsh voice but rather a soft, tenor tone. "Welcome to my home." Bright lights suddenly sprang to life and she blinked a few times until her eyes re-adjusted to the harsh lights. Without waiting for her captor to say another word, she turned her head to try and seize sight of him; her eyes met an unconscious, bloodied and nude Patrick Jane instead, chains snaked between every crevice of his pale body and suddenly she realized that she had no clothes on either and that the chains wrapped around both of them were rubbing their skin raw with every movement they made, conscious or not. Lisbon went back to searching for her kidnapper after seeing for herself that Jane was alright, besides a few minor injuries. "I'm so sorry about Bosco and his team, but they were in my way." The voice laughed unsympathetically, causing the hackles on the back of her bare neck to rise in anticipation. "I wanted our _dear_ esteemed Mister Jane to come and find me." It clicked suddenly; the kidnapper had to be Red John, notorious serial killer who had murdered countless innocent people and had even murdered Jane's wife and child. "Your imbecile team and your precious _CBI_," Red John half-scoffed and half-mocked both agencies as he laughed once more. "Makes my job so much easier; to get both you and _Patrick_ alone," Red John's harsh tones had been present until he had brushed over Jane's name, which he softened as if he were wrapping it in a lover's caress. "Twenty four hours after Sam Bosco's death, and your CBI team lets you both wonder around without anyone watching you?"

"They…" Lisbon began.

"Do not try and cover up for your fellow agents, Teresa." Red John interrupted her. "If they _really _cared for both you _and _Patrick, they would have had agents guarding your homes. I can understand Patrick not being watched, he'd slip out of their protection anyway." Red John snorted. "I would have gotten him either way; a predator gets bored of his prey eventually." Lisbon kept her eyes trained on the shadows incase Red John stepped out of his hiding place, but from the look of things, he wasn't going to step from his place to expose himself. "I didn't think they allowed liquor into the CBI offices anyhow, but Patrick has done many things to change you." Lisbon scoffed instead and Red John chuckled, which caused her hackles again to rise, once more. "He has touched you in many places that men dare not touch in authoritative women, such as yourself, and in return, you have made him _feel _again." Lisbon could almost feel the raw, seething anger from Red John. "I killed his wife and child because he had been _so _wrapped up in his fake psychic act to catch me; I made him _inhuman_, so he could catch me." Red John continued his long monologue, as he laughed once more. "Such an interesting word, to be inhuman; to be so non-human that one becomes cold and unfeeling, you would say this is your Patrick Jane?" Lisbon thought of his words and thought back to the conversation only a few days ago in Bosco's hospital room; when Jane had tried to unplug Bosco's morphine.

_"Morphine doesn't make him any better, it just stops the pain . . . Pain is nothing - pain means he's still alive," _Jane had explained to her, before she called him a cold bastard. The nurse had come back into the room to find the morphine unplugged, and the both of them in a screaming match. If Lisbon had been angrier, she would have pulled her gun on him then and there and shot him; they both knew they had larger issues to take care of at the time.

"Teresa?" Red John's voice snapped her back into reality and she wearily nodded, a pain settling in the back of her skull. "Ah, but you see, once I kill you; he'll be back to his inhuman self, he'll be back to hunting me." Lisbon kept her eyes trained on the shadows incase he tried anything, and suddenly Red John began to laugh. "Do you seriously think I'm going to kill you right now?" Red John tittered slightly. "I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." Lisbon's face paled, and she turned to stare at Jane before she gained a grimace and focused her attention back on the shadows.

"And if I refuse?" Her eyes flared toward the darkness.

"Oh, my dearest Teresa," Red John clarified. "You won't refuse; I've got the highest confidence in my abilities that I just know you _won't _refuse."

A/N: If anyone wonders why Red John would just talk to Lisbon instead of killing her, I think that Red John is an _extremely_ intelligent man who, if he ever captured Lisbon or Jane, he would explain his reasons for doing the things he did. Red John obviously thinks that Lisbon will die before Jane or the CBI can do anything to stop him.


	2. Chapter 2

**S****weet**** S****urrender**

**Outside Summary:** "I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own _The Mentalist _or Sarah McLachlan's song _Sweet Surrender_.

**Spoilers**: Following immediately 2x08 or "His Right Red Hand"

**Warnings**: Language

"_The Life I've Left Behind" _

Her heart thrashed against the inside of her ribcage, the room silent besides the pounding of her heart and the hiss of pain every time her chest inhaled the stale air to the point where chains would slice through tender, pale skin causing each exhale to come off as a sharper hiss than the last.

She needed to calm down, and she knew that; the first rule of any situation was to _stay calm_, her years of training at CBI had taught her that much. Years of being held at gunpoint, drugged and having your fellow agents being hypnotized, one would think that something such as a simple kidnapping would not cause the heart to race, it wasn't being stuck in the situation that had her nervous; it was the threat Red John had angled at her. Red John's succeeded kidnapping though, had one flaw; once he had left the room with a promise that he'd be back, he forgot to turn the lights off.

Lisbon's green eyes flickered over to Jane's still unconscious body and praised that he was still in that state, it left her with the silence and the time to think on what to do next. Both of them had to escape, both of them had to before Red John decided to grace them with his presence and do whatever his psychopathic mind had in store for them both. Jane would be left untouched; it wouldn't be physical torture for him, Red John _wanted _to push Jane to his mental breaking point. She, on the other hand would be the catalyst to all of this and she _had _to remain strong for Jane; she had no desire to see him thrown in prison or back in a mental institution.

Lisbon would be the one to pay, for every time she didn't let Jane hunt the bastard down and kill him with his bare hands. Lisbon would be the one to pay for the short leash she sometimes kept him on, not Jane. It was her job though, everyone else's life came before hers and Jane wasn't an agent, he was the highest priority here.

Her eyes idly, once more landed on Jane's form and she wondered why he was still unconscious with his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open just like she had found him before this mess. Red John had used chloroform to drag her under, Jane though looked dead, which meant three possible explanations. The first, being that Jane was still unconscious due to the fact that he hadn't been sleeping lately (none of them had been due to the latest case) and his body was trying to recuperate from both the attack and the lack of sleep. The second, Red John kept Jane in his present state longer due to him wanting to speak with Lisbon alone; the last reason however was that Jane was dead.

Red John was a psychopath, and due to Jane's chest rising and falling Lisbon knew he was alive. Red John wouldn't kill his puzzle, after all good puzzles were hard to find.

Questions bled into her mind, and the one that pounded at the base of her skull and kept haunting her was the most basic question; how? How did Red John, once more after having the CBI offices on lockdown get to both her and Jane?

She remembered telling her team to go home after sharing the last drink, and she remembered that Jane wasn't with her team when she dismissed them. She went to find him and found him with his head toward the table, his hand holding the Red John case file and she put her hand on his shoulder to get his attention, to tell him to go home for the night. He didn't move and when she removed her hand from his shoulder, he slumped forward; the Red John case file floating to the ground, his eyes closed and his jaw slack. Her fingers went for her gun in her holster, and her other hand went for her cell phone to call Cho; she lifted the cell phone to her ear and still held the gun between her fingers when suddenly the phone clattered to the ground, her gun slid under the table toward Jane's feet, both out of her reach and her knees came in contact with the floor.

She tried to twist her body, to kick out at the person who had just kicked her legs from under her when something pressed into her nose and mouth, she tried to fight her captor, she tried to fight the darkness but after that; everything was blank.

Lisbon knew focusing on the how wasn't going to help anymore than focusing on who Red John was, they still needed to get out and her eyes swept the room for any form of escape; the room seemed to be a bit larger than she had anticipated and she could see various doors and various pipes around the room; nothing, from her position looked as if it led to the outside and she frustratingly kicked whatever was holding her causing a sound of metal to clang throughout the room and Jane to groan, her eyes whirled back to him as his eyes opened and his mouth seemed to move, but nothing came out.

"Jane, are you alright?" Lisbon's voice cut through the silence and Jane's blue eyes caught hers.

"Red John, Lisbon" Jane rushed, his mouth gasping over her own name. "Red John, where is he?"

Authors Notes of Interest:

**Chloroform** is a dangerous substance, and depending on the dosage; it can have effects that may even trigger cardiac arrest. Adults are not affected the same way a child is, a larger amount is needed to drag an adult under, the dosage then affects how long someone will stay under; it is safe to say then that Jane has been given a larger dose of chloroform for some reason.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter, or even submitted this story to their alerts. I was really nervous about this story not being received well for many different reasons; and if this chapter seemed to be a little wordy or boring; don't worry, it was intended to be that way.

This chapter unfortunately hasn't been edited yet due to the fact that my beta-best friend won't see it until Thursday, if any mistakes are present, I will personally come back on Thursday afternoon and have a new corrected version of this up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sweet Surrender**

**Outside Summary:** "I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own _The Mentalist_ or Sarah McLachlan's song _Sweet Surrender_.

**Spoilers:** Immediately following "2x08" or "His Right Red Hand"

**Warnings:** Language

"_Is a Cold Room" _

She felt his eyes linger over her, it wasn't a strange feeling but she wished his eyes would rest somewhere, anywhere but her.

"We'll get him, Lisbon." She couldn't bring her eyes to meet his; Jane once again didn't see that they were in a life or death situation. It was the part of him that she disliked; she knew he wanted to kill the bastard (and right now, so did she) but with no weapon or a way out, both of them couldn't risk pissing off a serial killer such as Red John, who went from killing and leaving a calling card to kidnapping CBI Senior Agents and their consultants and Lisbon was sure that Red John would have thought of the basics and thought up every possible situation in the event anything did happen. "He doesn't kidnap, strange isn't it?" She nodded. "His mo…" She could tell he had gone back to staring at her. "Lisbon?" She reluctantly let her eyes meet his.

"Jane?" Jane shook his head.

"Nothing," She didn't believe him; Jane was going to say something. "Did he say anything to you?"

"No."

"You're a bad liar, Lisbon." She shot him a glare. "What did he say?"

"He didn't say anything."

"Tsk. Tsk. Lisbon, you shouldn't play games with Mr. Jane." Red John was back to standing in the shadows. "You should tell him the truth, lies get you nowhere."

"He did say something to you" Jane muttered, she kept her mouth closed and kept her eyes on the shadows and before she could blink, something was around her throat, strong fingers had woven themselves, pressing into her skin, cutting off her oxygen supply. She kicked out and the pressure was gone; and Red John with a hood over his head was sprawled on the ground; Lisbon's eyes found Jane's and he smiled slightly.

"Lisbon…" Jane began and before he could continue, Red John had his hands on her throat once again, pressing just hard enough to cause discomfort.

"Listen here, bitch." Red John hissed, loud enough for Jane to overhear and she kept her eyes locked on Red John. "I was going to start our little games with something simple, but it seems you can't appreciate me keeping your ass alive."

"Don't touch her!" Jane roared and Red John chuckled, and turned his head slightly to meet Jane's heated glare.

"My dearest Patrick, your Teresa is my compensation for you taking my Hardy away." Red John released her throat and he continued speaking, as he stepped back and placed his arms behind his back. "An eye for an eye," Red John stepped toward her and again, his hands still behind his back and she eyed him warily. "If you had let her die, she wouldn't be here right now and she wouldn't be suffering… like this…" Red John's hand shot out and opened, to reveal a tiny, silver key in the middle of his scarred, grotesque palm. He shifted the key between two fingers but at the last moment, he hesitated.

"Damn it." Red John cursed, and he turned around and placed the key in his pocket before leaving back into the shadows. Jane turned his head to her and she stared at him for a moment.

"Are you alright?" She nodded; and winced in response to her actions. She couldn't trust her voice not to give away how she truly felt at that moment, and the pain from Red John gave her that reason she needed to remain silent.

**Author's Notes of Interest: **

Red John is taking his sweet time, my beta-reader is missing and finals are this week—Three completely unrelated topics, but non-the-less I thought they would be interesting together. Maybe, Red John has my beta-reader and he's making her take finals; that's an interesting thought…

Anyway, thank you for all the reviews, story alerts and story favorites; it's been a horrible week and reading all the comments make me happy and let me know that the story should continue!


	4. Chapter 4

**Sweet Surrender**

**Outside Summary:** "I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own _The Mentalist _or Sarah McLachlan's song _Sweet Surrender_.

**Spoilers:** Following immediately "2x08" or "His Right Red Hand"

**Warnings:** Language

"_Across the last life, _

_From where I can return," _

As a child, she dreamed of closing walls and tight spaces yet she could always move and escape just by crying out and when she opened her eyes, she was back in her bedroom in the safety of her covers. However, when Red John had stormed into the room with the silver key in his, now gloved fingers and a murderous intent in his step, she knew he was ready for whatever he had planned for her.

"I'm sorry we had to cut our time short earlier, we had things to take care of," She eyed him. "Now, that it's done, we can start our lovely games; after all it's rude to keep you both down here without entertainment." He still wore his hood, but his mouth was visible. "My dear Mister Jane," Red John sharply turned his head. "I hope you will be highly entertained." He turned back to her and quickly unlocked the chains keeping her to whatever she attached to and Lisbon fell, she moved her hands to embrace the fall and when her body hit the ground, she hissed in pain. Red John tittered and she stared at him.

"We can't have your blood on the floor yet, Teresa." Red John chided as if Lisbon were a naughty child with her hand in a cookie jar, it wasn't until she glanced down at her hands to find that by catching herself, she had managed to cut her palms open with the small splinter-like fragments of glass that lingered on the floor. "You noticed our little gift, how thoughtful isn't it?"

"Oh yes, by putting glass on the floor in front of our naked bodies?" Jane scoffed "So if by some miracle we managed to escape, we won't leave without any scars attached." Red John grinned from his hood.

"Don't you see Mister Jane?" Red John mocked. "My very name is _Red_ John; red is the color of many wonderful things. Apples, cherries, anger, vengeance…" Red John paused to stare at Jane before coming back to Lisbon. "But above all things; red is the color of life and we fix people who are willing throw that away."

"We…?" She asked and he chuckled.

"Did I say 'we', I meant "I"," He paused and then continued on. "When I fix people, I take away what they should have been more blessed to have in the first place; life is blessed and I play the judge, jury and executioner." He shook his head. "Alas, I fix and what can't be fixed is thrown away." He bent down and grabbed her by her shoulders and hoisted her up, to where she stood on her own feet. He preceded to half-drag/ half-pull her from her spot to one of the many doors in the room, Lisbon couldn't see inside the room and she struggled to get away from him. "You'll be my biggest accomplishments yet, Patrick and Teresa."

"You said…" Lisbon began, recalling the very first conversation she had had held with Red John so many hours ago.

"How do you think you fix someone?" Red John responded, his hands still on her shoulders. "You don't just hand them prescription medication by someone with a PhD; you don't just send them to some dime story bought psychologist and let whoever tell the story of their mistakes, no, you break them even further." He paused to look at her, he over towered her by several feet. "Problems cancel each other out, if you're emotionally hurt and someone hurts you by means of a physical punishment; you focus all your energy on the punishment and you slowly forget that pain before the punishment." Red John had said this all quietly, as not to let Jane hear.

"Wouldn't it be better to hurt him then?" Lisbon asked, she didn't want Jane hurt but she wanted to know his reasoning, if his ideals were to give one pain to cancel the other out; then why did he aim to hurt her and not him. Red John chuckled darkly.

"In this case, no" Red John explained, he lifted one hand off her shoulder and placed it on the small door handle and before she could see inside the room, he had her back facing the room and her face facing his chest. "After all, our Patrick is a different entity entirely and what stirs other people won't stir him." Red John flashed a simple smile. "My smile strikes fear into everyone but you and Patrick, that's why my motive changed." The asshole could read her very well or he had cameras in the room, watching and listening to the both of them. "Are you ready to play my game, Teresa?" he stepped forward and pushed her into the room, the room's walls hugged her shoulders, blinding her with an extremely bright light and his hands drove into his pocket to pull half a green leaf out.

She would have laughed, if it wasn't for the fact that he let the leaf linger on her shoulders before resting on her face for a moment or so before grabbing her jaw and pressing in on her cheeks until her mouth opened and he placed the half a leaf in her mouth, he then brushed his finger down the front of her throat which caused a shutter and for her to swallow the leaf. He let her mouth go and he smirked at her.

"The Daphne plant is highly poisonous in full dosage." Red John spoke "Any part of the plant could cause coma, death…"

"You sick bastard!" Jane's voice cried out and Red John laughed.

"I'm not going to kill you yet." Red John clarified "I feel I've been very clear on this." He shook his head but continued on. "I only gave you half a leaf, it should only give you one symptom; and by the time twenty-four hours pass…" Red John paused, a smirk highlighting his lips "See you in twenty-four hours, my dearest Lisbon" and the door shut behind Red John's parting, leaving her to only guess what was going to happen to her in this room with the extremely bright lights, no noise except her breathing and only enough room to stand.

As an adult, she had the same dreams of a small room with the walls closing in on her. It didn't frighten her, it didn't.

Red John wasn't going to break them this way.

Author's Notes of Interest:

Thank you all for the lovely reviews, story alerts, and the reads (plus the well-wishes on my finals). It really makes my day just to receive alerts for this story!

By the way, happy holidays and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!!!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Sweet Surrender**

**Summary**: "I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer:** I'm pretty sure I didn't see my name anywhere in the credits of _The Mentalist_ and I'm pretty sure my name isn't Sarah McLachlan. So, I'm 100% I don't own either of them.

**Spoilers:** Immediately following 2x08 or "His Right Red Hand"

**Warnings**: Language

"Where every step I took in faith  
betrayed me  
and led me from my home"

Silence, to most is a punishment all on its own; dark thoughts and situations become a familiar pattern because guilt to most equal silence. She finds silence as an escape though, an escape from her busy career in which her mind is whirling with the questions that most people associate with silent guilt: How? Who? Where? When? Why?

Lisbon knew however, there was a point where she couldn't handle the silence; when the difference of a natural silence between others or even yourself could be very well defined from one of an unnatural silence which had her on her toes, had her counting at the top of her lungs, and had her humming some childhood song just to realize that by the time she had hit six-hundred and seventy-six, something wasn't right.

The bright lights from the small room had started to fade and by the time eight-hundred and ninety-one pressed from her lips, she could barely see the oozed scarlet which had covered her hands so boldly and brightly before.

She rotated her right hand slowly to where her palm could rest on the wall, and she hissed in pain as she pressed all her weight onto the wall from her hand; if the room was suddenly growing darker, pain would be the only reminder of sanity she had left.

It clicked, however by One Thousand Seven-Hundred and Eighteen that the lights weren't dimming but her eye sight was; she'd be left without her sight in this small hole with only her thoughts keep her company, and the small paranoia feeling in the back of her head. If she couldn't see, then she couldn't see what else Red John had planned for her. She did not want to hurt herself either again to feel the pain, but sometimes, you had to do anything to keep your sanity, especially in this situation where she knew she couldn't afford to lose.

She had her hand pressed against the wall, and bit her lip. She pressed her weight against the wall and then, she felt a searing pain and she fell into the blissful darkness.

Author's Notes of Importance:

Once again, thank you for all the lovely reviews and favorites! I'm really, really bad about responding back and it's not because I don't love you all, I do love you all very much! *gives hugs* I promise to do better about responding.

Hehehe. I'm laughing at the shortness of this chapter, but that's okay; next chapter makes up for all the shortness, I promise!


	6. Chapter 6

**Sweet Surrender**

**Outside Summary:** "I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own _The Mentalist_ or any of the songs I may refer to throughout this story.

**Spoilers:** Immediately following 2x08 or "His Right Red Hand"

**Warnings:** **SLIGHT** sexual content, language

"_All your lies,  
I'm not believing."_

_--The Only One, Evanescence_

Her eyes fluttered open, unconsciousness was something that most people didn't even experience—but Lisbon was lucky enough to have experienced it twice. She hated it, but vowed when she was around Red John, she should get used to it as soon as possible. God only knew how many times she'd be under in the next few days or how many more days she'd go blind.

Red John knew, but then he probably spent days formulating plans in the safety of the darkness and she felt somewhat better that she was alone in the situation and that no one else could see into the room.

Jane, well…who knew what he would do if he could see her and though it might do him some good to learn a lesson from this about selfishness, she knows he won't learn it because he only cares about the revenge of his wife and child; and going down a path of revenge can only cause one huge train wreck. It was better if they all steered clear, but like a bad train wreck, you couldn't stop yourself from gawking. No matter what happened, you couldn't pull your eyes away from the disaster before you. That's what Jane was, a disaster.

The death of his wife had unhinged him even further, and had made him into something only he and maybe Red John could understand; the thirst for vengeance and revenge ran deep and only stopped when it hit the small roadblocks in his way.

And Lisbon was sure this time that if time could rewind itself, that Jane would choose Red John her. If it was because she wouldn't have to go through the torture and pain Jane brought onto her via Red John, she'd never know what exactly his reasons were and she wasn't sure she ever actually wanted to know his full reasons for his actions.

Her job however consisted of knowing who she led; from Cho to Van Pelt and even Jane; because she needed to know where she could trust her team and where she couldn't in a case. If it touched too close to home, she had the right to pull any of her agents off the case but in Jane's case, she knew she could never pull him off the Red John case. Lisbon had tried to tell Minelli that taking Jane off the case could result in horrible consequences.

No one listened, and this was where everyone had ended up.

If anything, she only had herself to blame. She had let Jane get away with too much, especially after Hardy had leveled the gun on her. She let Jane have a longer leash and in return, here she stood in a small room with her eyesight gone and with only her grim thoughts to keep her company.

She couldn't, no matter how hard she tried—she couldn't blame Jane. It wasn't his fault and she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with oxygen before opening her mouth and letting her voice do everything she couldn't do.

She was screaming for the all things she couldn't say, she was screaming at the hopelessness of the situation, she was screaming because against her better judgment, the screaming helped her take control of the situation once again and once she felt her lungs burn from the exhaustion, she closed her mouth and leaned her head against the wall; pretending that she didn't hear distorted laughter or her own distinguished sobs.

* * * * *

She heard the door opening, and she felt hands wrap around her arms tugging her forward from her prison as she stumbled onto the floor. Red John's maniacal laughter rang throughout the room as roughly grabbed her again, digging his fingers into her skin.

"—you understand that, don't you Mister Jane?" Red John paused. "Of course you do, I mean… look at her, so beautiful." She felt his finger trail her cheek, and she held back a shiver but she couldn't manage to hold it back completely as he continued to run his finger down her neck and stop before reaching her shoulders. "You pick them well, Patrick."

"Go to Hell." Jane sounded livid. "Don't touch her."

"Oh, you don't like this?" Red John trailed his finger from her shoulder to the other shoulder by the means of her neck. Jane didn't respond. "I said like **this**, damn it!" and without warning, Red John had his hand under her breasts squeezing lightly and the shivers that ran up her spine, probably caused some reaction. Jane didn't say a word, but Lisbon could hear his short breaths and she could imagine him glaring daggers at Red John. She tried to struggle away from him but instead he moved, and she could feel him pressing his weight against her body. She could feel _everything_. She could feel him moving slightly and suddenly, she could feel his breath against her ear as she struggled to escape his grasp. "Oh, the things…" Red John didn't continue, as Jane spoke up.

"I'll do it." She felt the warmth on her ear reside and the pressure lift from her body, she let out the breath she had been holding.

"Mister Jane, I'm glad you see this my way." Red John gave. "I just hope that the name that comes from your lips is one of fervor." For some reason, Red John's sentence gave Lisbon a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach and she wasn't sure if he was talking to her, or Jane.

"Let's get this over with then." Jane's voice cut through the silence. "Put Lisbon back first."

"Gladly," Red John slid his hands on her forearms and holstered her up to where she stood on her feet. She moved shakily, even with Red John's guidance and she felt the chains lock back into place over body. "I will be back later." The sound of footsteps faded away, leaving Lisbon with Jane again.

It felt like forever before the first words passed from Jane's lips. "Are you alright?" She nodded, but what else was she supposed to say? What else was there to say? She didn't even want to think about it.

"What did you promise him?" The words were quiet, but they still left her lips.

"Nothing,"

"You're lying."

"You were lying to me when I asked if you were alright."

"Jane, tell me."

"No!" Jane sounded agitated, annoyed and aggravated—it was the first time, Lisbon had ever heard some form of aggravation from the man. It surprised her, and she turned her head away from him. Everything was silent for a few minutes more. "You'll get your eyesight back soon." Lisbon nodded. They were quiet again for a few more moments until his voice penetrated the silence again. "I'm sorry." Lisbon refused to turn her head to him but shook her head.

"It's not your fault, Jane." The sound of something hitting metal caught her attention, and she realized with a start that Jane had kicked the pipe again.

"Then whose fault is it Lisbon?"

"Not yours." She repeated.

"Whose fault is it that he locked you in that room, and took away your eyesight while you pounded your hand against the wall?" Lisbon's head whipped around toward his general direction and she heard him sarcastically laugh. "Of course, I know."

"How did you....?"

"I'm psychic, remember?" Lisbon could imagine a smile spreading across his lips as he spoke his last statement but both of them, once again fell into the silence and neither of them, from what Lisbon could tell wanted to start an actual conversation up again.

It nerved her however, because she knew that whenever he used his "I'm psychic" line; it was his way of not answering, of trying to make the situation less serious and for once, she wasn't going to approach the subject; if he wanted her to be in the dark, then she'd be in the dark and wait until he was ready to tell her.

She turned her head away from him and closed her eyes, thinking of everything but what had just happened and she fell into a fitful sleep and, the next morning when her eyes would open and she could see again, she would turn her green eyes on Jane to tell him about her returning eyesight to find that he wasn't there and a water bottle tucked under her arm; a cruel offering of something akin to peace from a serial killer.

Authors Notes of Interest:

Whoa. I'm the author and I'm not even sure about this chapter… but it was an absolute horror/delight to write, so I thought I would say that out of every chapter I've posted so far—this has got to be my absolute favorite. I promised a longer chapter, and here it is.

This story is mainly about Lisbon and her trials and tribulations throughout this period of time they spend with RJ. Jane however is EXTREMELY important to the storyline as we've just seen in this chapter.

I've tempted the idea of Jane's POV, and realized that I can show this several ways—I can weave his POV into this story, I can write a second _Sweet Surrender _with Jane's POV and ONLY Jane's POV or I just can leave the story with only Lisbon's POV.

I've got a while however, until the end of this story—so I'm not worried about my lack of decisions.

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, adds and reads for this story!!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Sweet Surrender**

**Summary:** "I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _The Mentalist_ or Sarah McLachlan's song _Sweet Surrender_.

**Spoilers:** Immediately following 2x08 or "His Right Red Hand"

**Warnings:** Language, minor self-harm

_"And I bleed, I bleed and I breathe, I breathe no more..."_

**--Breathe No More, Evanescence**

Lisbon let her eyes trail Jane's 'sleeping' form, and somewhere between his face and his abdomen; she caught sight of dark splotches on his chest and she tried to ignore the faint heat creeping up on her face but she found herself mentally groaning until she realized that the dark splotches on his skin were actually bruises and something akin to rage grew in her, Red John hurt him? Red John had used her, hurt her and then went after him?

She knew he wasn't sleeping; it was his way of shutting her out—keeping her from the truth of whatever Red John had done to him. It was obvious in the way that his breaths were short and heavy, and the fact that he kept clenching and unclenching his hands. Unless? Unless he was actually sleeping, and nightmares were claiming him.

_"No…_" The word ripped from his lips. "_Don't…_" and suddenly, what started off as small whimpers evolved into a scream; his eyes were still closed and his breathing harsh as he kept screaming for whoever was touching him to stop while he had his finger nails digging into his own chest, leaving bloody crescent moons in his path of destruction.

"Jane!" She had to get his attention, to calm him down—she couldn't let him hurt himself. "Jane!" He didn't hear her.

"_PLEASE, I promise…" _The words bubbled forth as if someone had pulled them from him, as if someone had tortured him into giving back the words. The screams grew in variation, and Lisbon watched as he continued to dig his bloody finger nails into his pale chest and his face while blood dotted his chest and face.

"Patrick!" It was the first time his name had pressed her lips, the first time that she had ever needed a reason to say his first name besides in an introduction. It worked, Lisbon realized as suddenly the screams died and she was left with the echoing memory of his screams, of someone who while not always entirely whole was brought back down to a child, a small child who was frightened and unsure.

She had her head turned toward him, her eyes slightly closed and she steadied out her breathing to where it appeared as if she were sleeping. If he noticed her fake act, he didn't say anything and instead of saying anything or trying to appease the shaking throughout his whole body, he sobbed into his hands.

"_I'm sorry…_."

She wondered what he had to be sorry about, and she didn't get her answer until he dug and dragged his finger nails across his arm.

_Why?_

She also knew she'd never get her answer. 

**Author's Notes of Importance: **

Thank you for all the amazing reviews and alerts that have been ravaging my poor mailbox I really do love reading (and of course, responding) to your reviews. I also want to thank my readers and anonymous reviewers!

As for the chapter, I blame the characters, I had a fluffy chapter already here—but NO, we have to go through more angst before we come off with any romantic fluff. Ha. It'll be okay, I promise for some fluff soon. I'm going to say this about the end of this chapter, and just keep in mind; we have no idea what the heck is going through Jane's mind—if his actions at the end seemed a little OOC, just keep that in mind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sweet Surrender**

**Summary: **"I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer:** Yes, I'm one EVIL bunny—but no, I don't own _The Mentalist _or Sarah McLachlan's song _Sweet Surrender. _

**Spoilers: **Following immediately 2x08 or "His Right Red Hand"

**Warnings:** Language

"_Leave you with your misery_

_A friend who won't betray"_

_--_**Adia, Sarah McLachlan**

She couldn't seem to lift her eyes from the floor; she kept her eyes on the scarlet trails under her feet instead of the man beside her. Lisbon felt his eyes linger on her every once in a while, a small discomfort to the fact that she had no clothes on but neither of them would say a word—it just seemed that all words seemed too trivial or useless in this situation. It wasn't until Lisbon had tilted her head to rest it on her shoulder, away from him that he decided to say something.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Jane's voice started and Lisbon did her best to ignore him, in case he was speaking out loud to himself. "We were always one step behind him, Lisbon." The repeated urgency of his words caused her head to turn back toward him, green eyes pressed to his blue ones—_uncertainty_ flashed between the both of them— "And everyone but us could see this, until…" Jane didn't need to say anything else, he was talking about Bosco and his team; the deaths that neither one of them had brought up because guilt wasn't something else they needed at the moment. "I couldn't see this until I realized how much I've put you in danger." He clenched and then unclenched his hands together.

"Jane…"

"Lisbon," Jane interrupted. "Please, let me finish." Lisbon reluctantly nodded. "When he…when…" Jane seemed to stumble over his words, which surprised her. Jane could be classified as many things: a pain in the ass, a prick, irksome and silver-tongued—but he never seemed to have any problem forcing words out. "I had a dream," Lisbon stared at him in confusion but he continued on. "In my dream, I dreamt that scarlet stained these walls, drenched my hands in every crevice while I held the bloodied knife and stood over a body. I _dreamt _that every mirror had some indent of a bloody handprint, and I _dreamt_ that in my hands and across my knuckles I held your cross." Lisbon's fingers immediately went to the cross around her neck to finger it, she drew in a breath of relief that it still hung from its spot. "I've dreamed of _everything_ and then nothing, Lisbon; but I've never dreamt of killing someone."

"Yet," Lisbon interceded. "You want revenge…" If anything Jane's eyes darkened, and she could see that he was restraining himself from anger.

"He killed my _wife and child_, Lisbon!" Jane threw his arms up in aspiration, which only preceded the chains keeping him there to clatter against the pipe. "I was a selfish, vain and arrogant man who taunted him, and he succeeded in making me bitter—in making me the only thing I hated more than anything else." Jane lowered his voice to continue. "It took me being here, it took me watching to realize that my revenge had taken on a new purpose, a latent purpose." She nodded slowly. "It took me one dream to see that if I didn't stop this path, I was going to do worse than just ending up in jail—but I would kill you; I would lead to your death."

"Jane, you're being ridiculous." Lisbon drew a shaky breath.

"Am I? Lisbon, am I?"

"Yes." He grew quiet for some time, and when Lisbon was sure he was either asleep or choosing to ignore her he spoke up.

"I'm not though, because Lisbon…Teresa…" Lisbon's eyes grew wide in surprise, did he really just….? "I…" and the sound of clapping interrupted them. Jane tore his eyes from hers and she casted her eyes toward the shadows.

"Oh, was I interrupting?" Red John was back in the shadows, and now, she had never wanted to kill him more than she did at that very moment.

**Author's Note of Importance: **

*hides*

Oh no. It's the angst-fluff bunnies… they're nibbling at me, they're…. damn angst-fluff bunnies, they keep taking away the characters. Oh well, at least the angst-fluff bunnies don't feel like killing anyone off anytime soon! I know it's also a shorter chapter, but we've got some… interesting stuff coming up in the next chapters which I already know will make them longer than usual.

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, alerts, and reads for the story—I'm trying my hardest to update faster, but you know how that is…. life just gets in the way!


	9. Chapter 9

**Sweet Surrender**

**Summary: **"I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer:** If I owned _The Mentalist_ or Sarah McLachlan's _Sweet Surrender_… never mind, let's not go there.

**Spoilers:** Following immediately 2x08 or "His Right Red Hand"

**Warnings:** Explicit Language, Minor mention of self-harm, Intended Drug Use.

"_I can feel it coming in the air tonight, _

_Hold on." _

**--In The Air Tonight, Phil Collins**

"I didn't think I had a cat around here," Her eyes darted toward Red John, who had his head turned toward Jane's chest. "But then again, I guess you can domesticate anything…" the hackles on the back of her neck rose again, and she tried to stop her body from the slight shiver. "Patrick, I thought we had this whole _issue _fixed after I killed your lovely wife and child." Lisbon turned her head slowly to stare at Jane, who stared down at his feet. "I don't know if you remember it very well, I mean—you were in a platonic shock; and me. I was just a _helpful_ doctor."

"Go to Hell, you megalomaniac bastard." Jane roared and Red John chuckled.

"You can't go to Hell, if you don't believe in it." Red John offered "We were just your _helpful _doctor, always suggesting more morphine…more _anything_ so we could keep you under, our own little doll in which I could do everything and then some with." Lisbon didn't exactly like the glances the two men were sharing, the hood hid him yes—but it didn't hide his mouth or his eyes and Jane's face wasn't exactly brimming with emotion, but she could tell shame had brought a pallor to the man. "Of course, dolls are meant to be flexible; and with always calling us ma…"

"Stop it." Lisbon's quiet yet fierce voice managed into their conversation, Lisbon felt Jane's eyes on her but she ignored it to stare Red John head on.

"Don't you want to hear about Patrick's lovely stay?" Red John asked. "Don't you want to know the real reason why he can't stand psychiatrists? Or why he went through great lengths to remove the stay off of his record?" Red John didn't give her a chance to answer, he continued on. "I'm a man of many different professions and that follows many different aspirations, wants and of course, needs." Silence met his statement. "Of course, I don't enjoy hearing that Patrick is declaring sudden truths, but won't tell the whole truths." Silence again. "After all, doesn't the truth set us free?" She tensed. If Red John was going around proposing to play a game of brutal truth and dare, she'd lose the control she'd try so hard to keep up with. "It took me a while to get what I needed, but no worries." Red John shrugged. "It's not anything extremely dangerous, addictive maybe but it'll give our lovely Teresa the edge she needs to be in for the next few days." A fetal grin spread across Red John's lips and Lisbon tensed, while Jane's voice filled the room.

"No!" Jane screamed. "Take me, damn it. Leave her out of this!" Red John didn't respond. "I'll…"

"You had your chance, Patrick." Red John told him. "You had your chance to escape with her the other day, but you wouldn't." Her eyes flickered to him, and he brought his eyes to meet hers. It was there, everything and more on why he didn't except the offer—Red John had wanted something that Jane couldn't give. "I'd say the both of you could work together, but I prefer one person."

"I told you, I would…"

"Jane!" Lisbon hissed and Jane ignored her, he pressed on.

"I will this time." He repeated, clearly; Red John chuckled. "I'll do everything…"

"Everything and anything to save her?"

"Yes." Jane's head was bowed and Red John stared at him for a moment in thought before he slowly nodded; the grin still in place.

"I don't want everything now however." Red John explained, and he turned back to Lisbon. "It must feel so comforting to know that you have a knight in shining armor, who will continue to protect you from me." She didn't reply; there was something she was missing here. Red John stepped closer to her, avoiding the glass on the floor around her surroundings to lower his mouth next to her ear. "He won't always be there to save you, and when he's gone, what will you do then?" Lisbon could tell a threat had just been pressed into the sentence, Red John was planning something neither one of them would comprehend until the moment it happened. Red John, who was so hell-bent on destroying the psych of one Patrick Jane using her, had moved onto destroying everything the man had.

She wondered how Jane, with his acute sense of observation didn't even see what Red John was doing.

* * * * * *

"—sleepy." The drowsy voice of Patrick Jane hit her ears after the silence had forced them to separate. "Be safe Lis'on." The sound of plastic hit the concrete ground and she watched the water bottle roll and whatever was left of the water, splattered onto the ground. Lisbon was torn between a chuckle, as a tired Jane was something to tease him about later on when they made it from Red John, and a soft sob, as Red John had something to do about this peaceful, unconscious state that Jane was presently in. Red John had given them both water bottles after his taunt with Jane, and had seated himself in the shadows after that—Lisbon could only guess that Jane hadn't had water in however long they had been down there and he didn't care if the water was tainted. He had ripped the cap from the water bottle and had downed most of the water, and she had watched as the trail of water had flown from his lips, dotted down his chin and onto his chest where it remained, until his head had lulled and his chin rested on his chest.

"_I remember don't worry—how could I ever forget it's the first time, the last time we ever met."_ Red John crooned, and her eyes watched as he reemerged from the shadows to stare at Jane. "You know this song?" Lisbon nodded. "Good." He remained quiet for a few seconds, except for the humming of the song. "It fits almost every occasion, especially ours at this moment."

"Planning on killing one of us then?" Lisbon asked, and he laughed post humorously.

"I told you earlier Teresa; I'm here to teach a lesson." Red John explained. "I don't kill people without a reason, and I plan on fixing you both."

"This is why people go to college, gain a degree and become psychiatrists—they want to help people the legal way."

"Oh trust me, I know." Red John explained. "I went down that route once, but the legal technicalities of it had me disgusted." She raised her eyebrow and he shrugged his voice turning into a near whisper. "I helped them once, helped almost everyone—but then…" Red John froze for a minute, and stared off into space as Jane often did when a memory hit him. She reacted immediately however, when she felt him backhand her across the face. "You _bitch_!" Red John had his hands around her arms, and ignored the squelch of the glass beneath his feet. "You fucking _bitch_! I should… I should…" His hands were shaking as he held her tightly. "I should kill you. Do you know how fucking easy it would be to take a knife to your throat and…" He made the motion of cutting a throat with his finger across his own throat and she stared at him, hiding the bare fear she felt. "But I won't, oh no. I won't." She didn't dare speak again. "I won't let you have the easy way out, Teresa Lisbon. Oh no. You deserve to die with your heart being ripped from your _damn _chest and forced down your own throat while watching your beloved Patrick Jane try and help you, and when he realizes that he can't help you—he'll take his own life."

"I…" He backhanded her again, her mouth steadily filling with blood.

"I can't kill you just yet, Teresa Lisbon." Red John stated, staring straight through her "But we'll have a little more fun shall we? Patrick will never know, and if you tell him—so help me God, I'll kill him." The fear sent in a full paralysis. "Now, what shall we play first?" She didn't respond, her mouth wouldn't move. "Game number one, two or three, oh, not feeling very talkative—that's alright, we'll play three first." Red John released her arms and placed his gloved hands behind his back before turning around back into the shadows. Maybe, he was leaving. "Oh don't worry my dear, I'm not going anywhere. I'm preparing my trusty friend." Red John chuckled. "Patrick's had pleasure meeting him a few times while you've been asleep, I wouldn't dare use the same dosage or the same stuff because you'd go into shock; and what fun would you be then?" She had to swallow or spit, the blood was filling her mouth rapidly but she found she couldn't do either. "With Patrick, getting him addicted was never the game. We used what I had, and he had an incredible buzz—but he'd be fine, nothing harmful. I suppose though, everyone's definition of harmful is different." He went silent for a few more seconds. "However, games and rules change as I'm slowly finding." Red John turned around slowly, and stepped into the light to where Lisbon could see with absolute fear and horror filling the pit of her stomach that he held a syringe in his hands.

She couldn't scream, or call out to Jane.

She couldn't run or hit, or bite.

She could only stare at him mutely, as his gloved arm took her upper arm in his grasp.

"This might hurt." He held the syringe to her arm, sighted out of the veins in the crook of her elbow and before she had a chance to get any feeling back—he already had the needle in her vein, and was already releasing whatever was in the syringe.

She fell into the darkness with the distant laughter of Red John, still ringing in her ears and tainting her subconscious dreams.

Author's Note of Importance:

*Feels chills up and down.*

I want to kill RJ now, he keeps messing up the storyline and causing more problems…but wait, he's an antagonist, and he's supposed to do that.

_--a few little things: _

-The song Red John crooned to Lisbon belongs to Phil Collins, "In the Air Tonight"

-In the conversation at the beginning of the chapter, I pulled full creative control and placed RJ where Jane was staying during his breakdown.

-The cussing in this chapter has used up my weekly quota of profanity.

Thank you for all the lovely reviews, the reads and the alerts! You all are amazing!


	10. Chapter 10

**Sweet Surrender**

**Summary:** "I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own _The Mentalist_ or any of the songs I may refer to throughout this story.

**Spoilers:** Immediately following 2x08 or "His Right Red Hand"

"_though I patiently waited, bedside, for the death of today  
I can't see your star  
the mechanical lights of Lisbon frightened it away"_

--Your Star, Evanescence

Agent Kimball Cho had to give Red John props, Red John had been able to kidnap two people from the CBI, and actually keep them hidden for one week. One week, in which every department in the CBI scrambled to find them and it even seemed that killers had put their own dirty work on hold, as if a grieving ritual for Teresa Lisbon and Patrick Jane. Cho, who became the acting head of the unit as soon as news had gotten to the CBI that Lisbon and Jane had been kidnapped by none other than Red John, watched the others filter in and out of the Serious Crimes Unit, and he watched Rigsby and Van Pelt try and hold things together—because they were all worried, and exhausted, he honestly couldn't even remember the last time he had gotten any real sleep in his own home.

"—would be easier, if anyone actually knew what Red John looked like." Van Pelt was saying to Rigsby, who had his head in his arms. "It's all guesswork." She brought her eyes to Cho and he nodded at her from his desk, he wouldn't move into Lisbon's office—it felt personal, and he knew that they would bring back the both of them—safe and sound. The sound of brisk footsteps had Cho looking from Van Pelt to the Security Guard who held a white letter in his hands.

"Where did you get that?" Cho asked, and the security guard shrugged uncertainly.

"Some man came to the front desk and told us to give it to Agent Cho of the Serious Crimes Unit." The security guard handed Cho the letter before slinking back off to do his job, and the SCU went completely silent as Cho opened the letter to read out loud.

"My friends at the CBI, especially my friends from the Serious Crimes Unit—Both Miss Teresa Lisbon and Mister Patrick Jane are alive, I have no reason to kill them, and I have no reason to send them back to you in any negative shape what-so-ever. Rather, when they get back to you—they might even be better than when you knew them." Cho paused to find that Rigsby and Van Pelt stood near him, hands held (and he doubted they would separate even if the AG walked in at that very moment to separate them). "I tell you this for two reasons my friends, the first being that I know you are searching for them and the second being that I don't appreciate my work being taken lightly; or stepped around as if you all know what you're doing. I give you this: Guilt is a poison, draining deep and long—guilt is poison that can no means be controlled once it hits your bloodstream and guilt, can kill a man and his love. Ado, my friends." Cho's voice grew silent, reflecting over the letter and then turned to one of the men near him to rush the letter to forensics. He knew Red John was going to be that careless, but he had to try for the sakes of Lisbon and Jane.

"What do you think it means?" Rigsby muttered from next to him.

"I don't know." He honestly supplied, turning his head to stare at Rigsby.

"Guilt…" Van Pelt whispered, before she was already tugging Rigsby and Cho over to the blackboard to write out the small poem Red John had left them.

_Guilt is a poison, draining deep and long—guilt is poison that can no means be controlled once it hits your bloodstream and guilt, can kill a man and his love_

Van Pelt turned back to both of the men, who both stared at her with an air of seriousness.

"Red John said something about how guilt can kill a man and his love." Van Pelt began. "If we apply the "a man" to Jane and "his love" to Lisbon…" Realization dawned on the team. "He's right, he won't kill them because…"

"They'll kill themselves."

**Author's Notes of Importance: **

I figured, as this chapter being an "interlude" of sorts—we needed a buffer to get us to the next set of ten chapters (Hello SCU team)—we're on the downhill of the story now… mwhahaha!

As for anyone who was confused last chapter, you're supposed to be—and yes, next chapter will pick up from where C9 left off. Thank you for all the reads, reviews and adds—you guys are absolutely amazing!


	11. Chapter 11

**Sweet Surrender**

**Summary:** "I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer:** If I owned _The Mentalist _we'd all be in trouble, I mean—think of the situations I would put Jane and Lisbon in? *shivers*

**Spoilers:** Immediately following 2x08 or "His Right Red Hand"

**Warnings:** Language

"_I looked away  
Then I look back at you  
You try to say  
The things that you can't undo"_

_--Fall to Pieces, Avril Lavinge_

Her eyes were open, vision hazy and trying to fight the heaviness in her eyelids as she watched Red John slink in and out of her vision—darting between the darkness and the light of the hovel, Jane still unconscious and resting peacefully for the moment as every once in a while Red John would stop to pause and stare at Jane, and then his eyes would flicker toward her as if she was going to behave any different than she was already acting.

Whatever he had done to her had only given her an adrenaline boost, something to keep her awake after her strange dreams of swirling colors and the twirling hues of fear which had consumed every bit of darkness from her vision, and for once, she felt safe—as if Red John couldn't touch her here, and that feeling gave her the inch of strength, mentally she needed to fight off whatever he had planned next for the both of them.

"—bon." Sluggish. Everything was hazy, and warm as if whoever was speaking had buried their head deep in the bottom of a well. "…do to her?" She flickers her eyes over to Red John, amusement written all over his visible features as she watches his mouth move, she can read his lips behind the hazy sluggishness.

"Same thing I've done to you once before." Red John explained.

"—ex with a drugged female makes for a much better time, doesn't it?" Jane?

"I have no desire to touch her." Red John responded, arms over his chest. "Why would I do that?" Red John shook his hooded head. "Patrick, I thought we've been over this…." whatever caused Lisbon from focusing was suddenly gone, and she could hear Jane's response perfectly.

"Let her go." His soft voice pleaded. "You've gotten what you want."

"Do I?" Red John questioned, just as soft. "Do I? Because I'm under the direct interpretation that you're in love with her" Jane didn't respond. "I'll be back to take from you again tonight, and by then—you better have your priorities straight because if you don't…" Red John threatened, inching closer to Jane. "Things will get much worse for Teresa, and I doubt you want to see any part of her turn blue or purple for that matter." Jane struggled against his restraints, until Red John's next words had him stop struggling all together. "All you have to do is say the words and I'll set both of you free." Wasn't Red John's whole plan to _fix _the both of them, not to get anything else out of the plan? He was becoming more complicated each time he spoke to either of them, and Lisbon felt as if there was some part of this that she was missing. "I'll be back later." Red John left his parting.

"Well," Jane started. "I guess you'll be wide awake tonight." She couldn't quite manage to get her mouth to move, and he continued on. "I'm…"

"No." She managed. "For the last time, this isn't your fault."

"I'm going to give him what he wants." Jane replied, after a few moments of silence. "You'll have your chance to escape…"

"Jane…"

"—and once you escape, promise me something?" Lisbon stared at him, and he brought his eyes up to stare at her. "Lisbon!"

"What?" She breathed.

"Promise me that once you escape, you won't look back." She stared at him again. "Promise me, that no matter what happens—no matter what you hear or what you think, you won't look back." She didn't respond. "I need you to promise me."

"Why?" She questioned, and he shook his head. "Jane, tell me why?"

"Promise me."

"Tell me."

"I…" Jane began. "I can't, and you need to understand that." He turned away from her slightly, his head facing a different direction.

"Then, I can't promise you anything."

**Authors' Notes of Importance: **

First off, I need to apologize for the lack of updates for this story and I can't promise that I'll update the next chapter anytime soon, but all I _can_ really say is that everything will be coming full circle for both of our lovely captives and the evasive Red John soon enough and also in the next few chapters we've got some fluff, and much darker waters ahead.

As always, thank you to all the reviews reads and adds—it's always amazing to find that someone other than me actually enjoys reading my stuff.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sweet Surrender**

**Summary: **"I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still not mine!

**Spoilers: **Following Immediately 2x08 or "His Red Right Hand"

**Warnings: **Language

"_You hold me without touch,_

_You keep me without chains_

_I never wanted anything so much_

_Than to drown in your pain and not feel your rain."_

**Sara Bareilles, Gravity**

In their time of working together, she knew that Patrick Jane was rarely wrong—and that when Red John decided to come back from where ever he was currently at, she'd have the smallest window of opportunity to escape. Both of them, having exchanged enough words for the moment had turned their heads away from each other to escape the fact that both couldn't give the other what they wanted.

Lisbon wanted the truth, and knew that the truth usually had a heavy price to pay as well to understand but Jane wasn't exactly making the lack of truth any easier for the both of them because whatever he was hiding was destroying him, if the fresh scratches (and even the old ones) on his chest were to testify for that matter all together; times like these made her want to strangle him, even if he made her feel all those amazing things she wasn't supposed to feel for him (but then again, she wasn't sure if that was really because of Jane or if it had to do with whatever Red John had pumped into her system).

Not for the first time in the past few days, did she feel some itching to grab his hand—to let him know that she was here and didn't blame him for anything but the chains kept the both of them from meeting comfort, from behind able to gain that inch of comfort the both of them hadn't been able to gain from Bosco's death. After-all, both of their mourning periods hadn't exactly been long considering that they both had become players in the sick game that Red John was aiming at the both of them and she wondered how much longer the both of them could hold out without giving in or even giving up. No matter what would happen or what was to come, she wouldn't sob—the bastard didn't deserve her damn tears, and he certainly didn't deserve to live.

If she had her gun, she'd shoot him—and then if she could, she'd bring him back to life, and then shoot him again; maybe if Jane behaved himself, she'd let him have a few goes also without sending him to prison. She doubted anyone could actually blame them for wanting to shoot the man responsible for all of this on every square inch of his damned body.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps and then Red John appeared still wearing his hooded jacket, with the hood pulled over his face as he viewed both of them before stepping near Jane and with a quick movement had Jane from his chains without using any handcuffs to restraint his hands or feet, Red John then placed the key in his loose back pocket of the jeans he wore.

"Ready?" Red John asked, Jane noddedbefore turning back to look at Lisbon for a second and then he stepped around Red John to whisper something in the man's ear, however Lisbon watched as Jane slipped his hand into Red John's back pocket to successfully pull out the key, before pulling back and staring at the captor.

"Can I hug her?" Red John stared at him, and then nodded in response to Jane's question. Jane stumbled near her, and moved his feet slightly apart where not to be sliced by the bloody glass below her as he wrapped his arms around her chained body and placed his mouth to her ear. "The key is in your hand." Lisbon felt the small metal piece press into her palm which she curled her hand into a fist. "Run, and don't look back." Jane pulled away just as she thought he was going to say or do something else, and he turned to stare at Red John.

"Not going to say thank you?" Red John asked.

"Thank you." Jane hissed, as he moved toward Red John and the two continued from the general area of Lisbon's sight before disappearing into one of the many rooms. Lisbon unclasped her palm to stare at the key in amazement and silently looked up to thank someone that Jane could somehow manage to pick a mad serial killer's pocket for a key to set her free.

She fumbled around with trying to fit the key in the lock, and eventually the chains fell to the ground as she grabbed onto the pipe behind her so she wouldn't slide onto the glass below and managed to throw herself a few good feet away from the glass, only to land on her cut up knees and hands to which she stood quickly and stumbled forward (the bottom of her feet still ailing from the glass). It didn't take her long to get a bearing on her surrounding and before she knew it, she was running toward the steps—hissing in pain each time her feet came in contact with the wooden steps and she pressed through whatever door was separating them from freedom.

Lisbon didn't even pay attention to the dark house, or anything around her as she edged toward the front door and threw it open to reveal a world full of sunshine (which caused her to raise her hand to shield her eyes), fresh green grass, and a street where cars passed occasionally.

It wasn't until she stepped outside the house, and halfway to the road did she realize that a) she still wasn't wearing anything and b) it felt wrong to leave Jane behind, but she knew she needed to find a phone to call her unit, to tell them she needed them to rescue her and Jane. Of course, that left the issue of not knowing where she was but hopefully, they'd trace the call.

She took one more step forward, but not before she felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck¸ as if something had stung her and then the darkness swallowing her whole again.

**Author's Notes of Importance:**

Gosh, I'm horrible leaving it there but the next update will be so much quicker so I have no problem leaving everyone with a cliffhanger. Thanks to all the reviewers, and especially to my anonymous reviewers who reminded me that I really needed to get back on this story. (Life has been crazy, but I'm going to spare you the explanation on why)

Anyway, thanks to ALL the reviewers, readers and alerters so far—we've come so close to the end (I'm now estimating approximately 16 chapters), and I'm really sad to say that everything will be coming full circle now. It was so much fun to keep you all in the dark.


	13. Chapter 13

**Sweet Surrender**

**Summary:** "I want to see just how _human _Patrick has become, and you Teresa, will help me." L/J

**Disclaimer:** I obviously don't own these characters; if I did…we'd all be in so much trouble. I mean look at all the trouble I put Lisbon and Jane through. *sheesh* I'm a sadist. (not really)

**Spoilers:** "2x08" or "His Red Right Hand"

**Warnings**: Language, Self-Harm, Physical Punishment.

"_It's my fault when you're blind,_

_It's better that I see it through your eyes_

_All these thoughts locked inside_

_Now you're the first to know." _

**--It Ends Tonight, All American Rejects**

**

* * *

**

Her hands and legs were spread apart, while she remained face down on whatever held her up—her head pounded, and every part of her body held a dry ache as Lisbon tried to ignore the pain by squeezing her eyelids shut. To her, it felt as if she had a hangover, not as if she had just been hit in the head. She heard something move, and she tried to move her neck to see if she could see what was coming but a tingle of pain shot down her neck and into her spine, which caused a low moan and the idea that doing something like that probably wasn't one of the smartest things to be doing.

"Tsk, tsk…" Red John's voice greeted her conscious self, as she felt a weight settle next to her and something soft stroke her cheek. "You shouldn't have tried to run, Teresa." She tried to flinch away from the touch, but his hand struck her face to which she yelped. "You ungrateful bitch, I've let you live this long—when I really have no valuable need for you." He stroked her cheek again, to which she bit her lip. "Though, Patrick needs you…he plays nicely for you, and without you; my bargaining chip, I can't get him to play my games." A sadistic chuckle filled the air, and Lisbon felt her heart pound in her chest. Whatever he was about to do wouldn't bide well with her, it wouldn't bide well with anyone. "Oh well, I think Patrick will learn from his mistake of helping you—he'll have to listen to your screams…" Screams? "Brace yourself, Teresa…you may not make it from this room alive tonight." And the weight disappeared from besides her; she only had a moment's notice to take a deep breath before something hard cracked down on her bare backside.

She yelped, and tried to jerk from the bed but the restraints kept her in place, nipping at her wrists and ankles every time she tried to jerk away.

He laughed, the sadistic bastard; and whatever he was using came down on the same exact spot as before, a loud sound filling the room as she bit her lip to keep from screaming out—she was strong, she could do this…..

"I'm going to make you beg for me to stop; I'm going to make you beg me to make the pain go away…" He hissed into her ear. "You're going to scream my name, and Patrick will hear and he'll be so _proud _of you." Lisbon knew the way that he had spoken "proud" wasn't with happiness but rather with hatred and vile, she then felt his cool fingers trail the spot that he had hit and she hissed in response. "Feels good doesn't it?"

"No," She spat, and whatever he was using came into contact with both her legs, to which she bucked around to try and end the endless burning shooting up and down her legs.

"You will answer me with yes." He hissed, and she felt his warm breath on his ear. "Feels good doesn't it?"

"No." Lisbon responded, and she felt his fist come into contact with the tender spot on her back which caused her to hiss in pain, as she still bit her lip. Red John continued this method for a while, his fist hitting her shoulders, her legs, her arms, and her back until he leaned down again, mouth pressed to ear.

"I would start begging now Teresa, it's only going to get worse from here." Lisbon refused to respond, because a) she still bit her lip and b) she didn't trust herself enough to respond, in case she screamed. "No? I think I should be thrilled though that you want this so badly." She felt his fingers again, and this time, his fingers curled into her knotted and dirty hair only to pull as hard as he could.

He leaned into her and whispered into her ear once more, "Count." He hit her, and she refused to respond. "Count or I will hit you twice as hard." He hit again and she refused once more, which caused whatever he was using to crack down across her bare bottom and she bucked against her restraints again, as he darkly chuckled. "Now, count!" She felt the item come into contact with her back, and she opened her mouth to respond.

"One…"

_Crack_

"Two…"

_Crack_

"Three…"

_Crack_

"Four…"

_Crack_

"Five…"

_Crack_

"S-six…" She could almost feel his grin, and she could feel his stare as he probably admired her lovely backside.

"Ah, so the all mighty little miss fierce Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon isn't as strong as she thinks she is." Red John taunted, with a laugh. "Should I break her of this habit, and teach her why it's so impolite to run from someone who is extending a common courtesy." Red John paused for a few moments, as Lisbon trembled in her spot—her mouth pooling with the metallic taste of blood, she couldn't spit which meant she could either hold it or swallow, she wasn't about to swallow her own blood. "What do you think I should do, Teresa?" Oh _how _wonderful, the sadistic bastard was asking her how she'd like to suffer. "If you don't answer, I'll choose for you—and I'm pretty sure you won't like my choice." She wouldn't have answered him, if it weren't for the fact that the situation was one of those "damned or be damned" situations, she opened her mouth feeling the liquid dribble down her chin as she felt her lips turn into a slight smirk. She responded.

"Fuck you." And instead of a response from the man who stood before her, she felt the item crack down upon her back again.

* * *

The restraints held while chains wrapped around two wrists, sounds from one of the rooms caused a tendril of fear to seep into the pale, kneeling and naked form of Patrick Jane. Lisbon was stronger, stronger than most people he had come across in his life—but this, _if _she survived this without any lasting damage—she'd be lucky.

Red John wasn't one to play nice, and Jane knew that.

Lisbon screamed.

Jane shouted.

Red John laughed, and Jane's arm started to itch and burn.

He tried to ignore it, but soon enough, he had his nails on his left hand (which conveniently both his hands had been wrapped and chained around one of the pipes leading from the ground floor to the top of their current place of residency) slicing through skin on his right arm, ignoring the pain he felt as his skin was parted like the red sea, he concentrated on the blood pooling up from the horizontal slashes on his arm.

He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to hear her screams—if anyone should be screaming, it should be him—but Red John would never hurt him in that way.

No, Jane thought as he kept his eyes on his skin where ruby drops formulated on his pale skin, that's because he hurts me in other ways.

Lisbon screamed again, and then everything went silent—Jane's breathing heavy in the silent room, until he heard the door open and saw Red John step into their current residence to stare at Jane, features still under his dark hood.

"She's alive." He told him, with a snarl; Jane let the small breath he had been holding out and relief flooded his system. She was safe. She was fine. More important, the woman he _loved _was alive. "For now…" Jane could only stare at the man, who had caused so many troubles over the past years, before the panic settled in again and his chest clenched, heart pounding in chest and blood pounding in his ears as he tried to calm himself down to where he could only look at Red John with a look of cool indifference, Jane knew that his look of cool indifference(especially after Lisbon's torture session earlier) caused Lisbon to think that he didn't care, but he knew how Red John worked, if you showed that you didn't care about something—Red John was more than likely to toss the item aside, and if he had to pretend that Lisbon was an item to keep her safe, he would.

After all, Teresa wasn't an item.

And Teresa and Lisbon weren't the same people in his mind anyway.

"You better tell her, Patrick." Red John warned. "Because if you don't, I will and I'll make sure to spill _all _of your dirty secrets to her." Jane's mouth opened, and Red John shook his head. "Tsk…tsk…Patrick, you shouldn't hold out on Teresa. She's _very _concerned about you, and you don't want me to tell her all the things we've…" Jane vomited on the concrete floor below, stomach twisting and turning—the acidic taste burning his throat and tainting his lips.

"Don't mention that!" Jane roared, gagging.

"But it's true, Patrick." Red John explained. "I told you from day one, that eventually you'd get everything paid back in full—and look where we are now, the only think stopping us from being…"

"I wish you would have killed me, you asshole!" Jane spat. "At least _none _of us would be here right now…"

"You wanted to die, and part from my _lovely _company?" Red John scoffed. "It's the best you're going to get, because who wants a man still attached to his _dead _wife and child." Jane flinched, Red John had a point…he was so broken, so beyond redemption that any idea of someone actually _wanting _him caused a flutter of horrible reactions to sputter through his stomach—he had been so high strung on revenge for…all the right reasons… that he had passed up the only opportunity to start a relationship, and the one woman now who was hanging in the balance because of him was his only hope. He had to do this for her, he had to remain strong for her and she had to leave in once piece—she had to be whole, she was an original and he was a dime a dozen, expendable.

Red John was his, and he was Red John's

And that's how it was supposed to end; he only hoped Teresa would understand.

* * *

**Author's Notes of Importance: **

I'm figuring that it's about time that I say something based on the content of these next few chapters, I just want to throw this out there but the story does not reflect my views on anything, the characters take on their own views and I just write what the characters tell me they want to do--see, the other characters *finally* wanted Jane to have his own little POV action!

Anyway, my update schedule will be a little strained for the next few weeks as I'm hoping to finish all of my current stories before the end of July. (It probably doesn't help that I've started planning three new stories and I'm participating in the Summer Secret Santa on Jello-Forever.) This means that I'll probably go into "hiding" for about three weeks so I can finish everything because I really want to end this story in the way that feels right for me.

Thanks to all my signed-in reviewers, anonymous reviewers, readers and alerters—this story really wouldn't be half as amazing as it thinks it is, if it didn't have people reading and reviewing it. *hugs!*


	14. Chapter 14

**Sweet Surrender**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, none of this is mine.

* * *

_When I'm down here__  
__On my knees__  
__And sweet__  
__Sweet__  
__Sweet surrender__  
__Is all that I have to give__._

_-_**Sweet Surrender, Sarah McLachlan**

**

* * *

**

Red John discarded her on the floor of the hellhole, kicking her in the abdomen as he moved to chain her to the silver pipe jetting out of the floor; she moaned under her breath and wondered if there were any parts of her that probably were not black or blue?

She bit her lip to keep from crying out, as Red John slinked back up the wooden stairs and the door closed on the both of them. Blinding lights still in full force and Lisbon glanced over at the chained, bloody Jane who had his head toward the ground in some silent prayer, though she knew the man didn't believe in any sort of religion, she half-wondered if he had decided differently due to this whole _experience_, as there wasn't any other word for it. She watched his face stray from one emotion to the next, one moment an internal sadness stretched across his face, the next, the emotion of a surrender that filled her with despair and fear.

She wondered perhaps if this was the true man behind Patrick Jane's façade, if the true man hoped for a sweet surrender to protect himself (and her) when they both knew, they were probably going to receive one of bittersweet proportions—especially if things continued on like this, she glanced at him and allowed words to spill from her lips.

"J…" He glanced up at her and shook his head, blue-green eyes focused entirely on her.

"Before my wife and child died," he told her, his tone low. "I received letters; they weren't threatening but... they were creepy fan-like, some celebrities get those letters from fans that ask to marry them, and I received one—my wife and I just laughed it off."

"Why didn't you say anything about it?" Lisbon asked.

"Lisbon, I was a celebrity psychic." Jane aspirated. "The police weren't…"

"That's why…" she muttered and he glanced at her. "You came to work here for safety." He nodded.

"I never thought…not in a million years did I think that…" He stammered.

"I know." Both lapsed back into an uneasy silence, before Jane pressed forth.

"After _they _died, I tried drugs." Jane admitted. "Of course, never enough to do any serious harm or kill me until…a letter arrived in the mail." Lisbon nodded. "Someone had pictures of my…my…my…you get the point." He gave, and she realized that he holding himself together, just barely. "I accidentally overdosed, and ended up with Dr. Miller."

"What happened?" She was almost fearful to ask.

"I don't remember much, most of my memory is blank…"

"You were drugged." It wasn't a question, but Jane nodded.

"Yes."

"By Sophie?"

"No."

"By another doctor?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"I remember being assaulted…" He whispered. "Hands secure, legs too…" with a small glance and smile toward the stunned Lisbon, he pressed forward. "I remember pain, and wetness and…crying out something."

Lisbon stared at him.

"Why the _hell _didn't you report it?"

"I tried, trust me, I _tried_." Jane muttered, a dark chuckle rolling forth from his lips. "Sophie wouldn't believe me, said it was the _drugs _in my system." At her soulful look, he glanced at her with a grimace. "I don't need your sympathy, Lisbon."

"No," she agreed. "You don't." Neither continued until Lisbon's voice spilled back into the conversation, the ground cold yet it felt so good beneath her bruised body.

"What did he want?"

"Red John?" A reluctant nod.

"The only think I'm good for in the exchange for your safety." Jane mocked, and at Lisbon's stare, he glanced over at her. "Me, all of me." Lisbon raised her eyebrow and Jane sighed. "It's not important, you're going to be safe...I can't...I've..."

"Jane?" Lisbon asked.

"I can't handle anymore of your screams, Teresa." Jane whispered, he broke their eye contact and Lisbon felt sick, her vision tilting around her. "I've heard the screams of my daughter and wife in my dreams; I thought it would prepare me to handle anything but...you..." he paused, as he ghosted his eyes over her bruised and battered body. "You're not a figment of my imagination, and I have to learn the hard way to keep you safe."

"Jane, I can take care of myself." She allowed. "I..."

"I _need _to do this, for the both of us."

"If you think for one moment, that you're about to _submit _yourself to the bastard upstairs—are you stupid?" Lisbon, for what it was worth, knew that loosing her cool wasn't going to help their situation but Jane's attitude toward the whole thing was of a sweet surrender, the one thing that neither of them could have. "I can and will take care of myself."

"And if he hurts you?" Jane pressed. "Can you take it?"

Lisbon bitterly laughed, though she flinched as her ribs pained her.

"You're seriously asking me, if _I _can handle what I'm given?" She glanced up at him, amusement in her bruised features. "Of all the things to say, you'd rather say that I can't take care of myself."

"I'm not the stupid one," Jane muttered and Lisbon threw the strongest glare she could muster toward the damned bastard. "I'm not the one who thinks this is all dandelions and unicorns."

"Did I _ever _say that?"

"No..."

"Then stop saying I did." Lisbon threw out. "You're not the only victim here." Jane grew silent, and Lisbon wondered—when exactly, in this mixed up world of damned desires and broken promises did Jane become her victim, and when did she become his.

"I know," he muttered. "I deserve this."

"I didn't say that."

"I know," he repeated, slowly. "I did." Lisbon didn't respond to him, but he continued on with a different, twisted laugh. "If I'd had overdosed correctly, I wouldn't be here right now and neither would you."

"Don't you dare say that." Lisbon hissed. "I've told you once..."

"Yes, people _care _about me." Jane gave. "I've never seen it..."

"That's because you're so damned stubborn!" Lisbon defended, which caused him to glance at her in surprise. "I've told you that there are people who care about you, and you haven't listened to me yet!"

"It's not like you have anything valuable to say toward the subject." Lisbon stared at him in anger and disbelief, how the hell could he say that?

"Oh really?" Lisbon asked, quietly. "It's not like you mean nothing to our unit."

"I mean _something_?" Jane laughed again. "That _something_ is closing your cases for you."

"This has nothing to do about our damned cases!" Lisbon screeched. "God Jane, you've been blind for so damned long and this is why you're in this predicament!"

"Well how the _hell _do you suggest I get out, oh overlord Lisbon?" Jane snarled. "Sic Bosco on him?" Lisbon flinched as if Jane had slapped her across the face. "Oh yeah, I can't because he's _dead_...wake up and smell the damned roses, Lisbon. If I were dead, you wouldn't be here right now."

"You know this how?" She shot back at him. "How do you know that Red John wouldn't have hunted me down, Jane?"

"Because, you mean nothing to him."

"You say that like there's a price to be won for having the coveted affection of a _serial _killer!" Jane blanched. "Do you want to know why you're pathetic, in my eyes?" He didn't nod. "You're going to throw everything away; you are going to _give _yourself to a man who could turn back on his promise after he's done with you, for what?" Lisbon questioned. "To say you _protected _me, to play the _knight in shining armor _for me? _Jane..._" Jane glanced at her. "I don't need to be saved, or protected—I _need _you."

"You need me?"

"Yes."

"You need me to solve cases."

"Jane, we solved cases before you came and we'll solve them after you're gone—but _I _need you in my life." It was then, she decided that nothing could be worse than what the both of them could face in the next forty-eight hours and she glanced up at him. "I need you here with me, alive—so we can attempt a new beginning." Jane blinked.

"Lisbon," he muttered. "You wouldn't want me." She didn't respond, and he continued. "I love you, but I'm still married to my wife's ghost...I can't...I'm just..." he allowed his eyes to shut. "Forgive me."

"For what?" Lisbon asked and Jane started to open his mouth as Lisbon continued. "If you think for one moment giving yourself up for me is some chauvinistic way of telling me that you _love _me, and then I'm thinking that you need a new strategy."

"I love you." He muttered. "Which is why I..."

"You _love _her?"

The third party entered the conversation, to which Lisbon knew—whatever Jane would decide to reply with, would be their new (and possibly, ending) fate. Red John stepped into the light, a silver case in his hands.

"You think she loves you?" Red John snickered. "God, you both are worse than a soap opera." Jane didn't respond, and neither did Lisbon. "You see, even now she won't speak her _true _feelings for you...but, a little of this," Red John held up the silver case. "Will have her showing her true feelings for you; would you like to see if the little minx likes you Patrick?" Jane didn't respond. "I said..."

"Yes."

The case opened, and Lisbon closed her eyes.

She had to remain strong, otherwise—it would end as a sweet surrender for the both of them.

**Author's Notes of Importance:**

I have nothing important to say, though I plan to end this story sometime within the next week or so. :\ I need to thank my reviewers (who have patiently waited for another update), my one flamer (who made me laugh so hard that I about fell out of my chair) and to all the alerters and readers of the story thus far.


	15. Chapter 15

**Sweet Surrender**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, it's seriously not mine.

**Warnings: **Intended drug use and language.

* * *

_All your hands on me,_

_I can't scream, I can't scream_

_I can't escape the twisted way you think of me_

_I feel you in my dreams and I don't sleep_

_I don't sleep. _

_-_**Snow White Queen, Evanescence**

**

* * *

**

She watched Red John stare at the fuming Jane; tape over his closed mouth to keep him from calling out to her, as the angry mumbles busted the silence that all three of them had accumulated after the tragic story of ex-psychic Patrick Jane and the man that was Red John. She though, now was perfectly content and it felt as if she were floating through the clouds watching everyone from below. She could see Jane, whose blonde hair was dirty and disheveled without all the chains adorning his body as she could first remember them having done so, still forced down on the ground. His knees remained on the concrete as his hands remained wrapped around the lead pipe sticking out of the ground, while his expression was of a cool fervor.

Red John however, was still a mystery (even with her floating above them all) with a hood still tossed over his head each time he had personally came into see Lisbon to her torture.

With Jane and Red John, it only left one more member of the little sadist party—herself; every inch of her once pallid and smooth skin was marred by the angry blotches of red, bruises of purple, black and some even a sick yellow just because she had tried to escape his little hell hole.

"Teresa." Someone's voice assaulted her floating, and she barely could catch the words from her mouth.

"Yes?" Her quiet, hoarse and whispered voice sliced through Jane's angry muttered words. Red John chuckled and stepped closer to Jane to pat him on the shoulder at which he jerked around in vagrant disobedience.

"You would like to do something? Yes?" Her head nodded, slow and deliberate as Red John ripped the tape from Jane's mouth.

"Lisbon! Listen to me!" Jane's voice assaulted her hearing, as Red John stepped closer to her and she watched herself become free from the cocoon of chains holding her to the pipe, and she watched Red John grab herself under the arms to place her down away from the sharp spikes of glass that kept her from any more escape attempts. He leaned into her, and his breath tickled her ear as she spoke only two words.

"Kiss him." Red John stepped away, and Lisbon watched herself stumble over to Jane, who stared at her in confusion and mild excitement.

"Lisbon!" Jane called to her again. "Teresa!" He used her first name, as she stood closer to him; she lowered herself to her knees and pressed against him. Both of their body heat intermixing with the other person's, and before Jane could manage to open his mouth, she had her lips pressed to his. The forced kiss escalated from a small fumble of lips to a heated kiss, where tongues danced within the dark caverns of teeth and moist spit, until he tried to pull away from her, and her arms quickly became steel around his neck, locking him to her. From the aerial perspective, she heard herself moan and suddenly, that feeling of being on a cloud disappeared as Lisbon yanked her head back, pulling her arms from around his neck and backhanding him across the face.

"You _fucking_ bastard." She cried, spitting in rage. "I didn't tell you that you could kiss me." Jane remained quiet, an unknown expression dancing across his features.

"I don't think I told _you _to stop kissing him." Red John snarled and once more, soft lips met dry, cracked ones. Jane was trying to save her? She almost laughed bitterly, he had done nothing but cause her more pain: the beatings, the emotional turmoil,and whatever else Red John had injected into her system via handy injection; Lisbon tore loose again, pulled back her fist, and punched him in the face. Jane's head lulled against his chest. Dark, fresh blood oozing from his nose; before Red John could say or do anything else, she placed her hands under Jane's chin and lifted his face to press her lips against his blood stained lips. She ran her hands through his blonde messy and disheveled hair in a silent apology as blood dribbled down his pale and scarred chest.

"See," Red John, responded quietly—even though his words would have no effect on the either of them. "This is how she felt about you." Lisbon barely felt fingers graze her arm, as she was dragged away from the very man who had tried to keep her safe.

And in the end, she barely felt the bed beneath her, and she barely felt the fingers graze her skin again.

She felt the touches along her face, but she was too far gone—too far away to feel the crushing weight upon her sternum, to far gone to hear the agony in her own cries.

"You're not supposed to love him." He told her. "You weren't supposed to love him, not after all of that!"

She cried out, and he allowed his boiling rage to pour onto her—strong hands wrapped around her neck, choking and dragging the life out of her. She wondered, idly, if this was what being in Hell felt like. If maybe, just maybe, she deserved to die for the horrible sins she had committed in life.

_Click_.

It was the safety trigger on a gun disabled; she knew that sound more than most would.

Red John paused, one hand still tight around her windpipe.

Lisbon screamed, spots appearing before her very eyes.

"Oh God…" She choked, before the shot rang out and her vision went black, forever engraved with red.

**Author's Notes of Importance: **

The silver case held the same drug that RJ used before on her, but this time-it's a higher dose...anyway, I thought about ending the story here, but then I realized that while angst is fun—being kept in suspense isn't.

Thanks, as always to the readers, the alerters and of course, a huge thanks to all my reviewers—even my anonymous ones.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sweet Surrender**

**Disclaimer**: Nope, it'll never be mine.

* * *

_I'd go hungry,_

_I'd go black and blue_

_I'd go crawling down the avenue_

_No, there's nothing I wouldn't do._

_** -Adele, Make You Feel My Love  
**_

_**

* * *

**_

The beach had been one of her favorite spots; in life, she had mentioned the beach in passing at least once a week, and Patrick Jane, who had fallen in love with the most wonderful woman in the world, had even imagined that one day, he would wed her on a beach, which touched the Pacific Ocean.

However, those plans were before Red John had ruined his life for the second time.

He had pictured himself and her, on this very beach, family, and friends to celebrate and witness a union of two souls but instead of a damned union of happiness, they were all mourning a life. It was himself, various members of the CBI, Minelli, the new woman boss of the CBI Madeline Hightower, Van Pelt, Rigsby, Cho, her brothers and various other friends who gathered on the beach and wanted to pay tribute to the fallen agent, whose ashes were contained in the simple black urn.

Jane held onto the object for dear life, even as he ignored the sympathetic looks aimed toward him, even as Van Pelt steadied him from falling into the deep blue ocean, even as various people gave speeches about how inspiration she had been.

This was all his fault, if he had just killed himself right the first time; she'd still be alive.

Mourning Samuel Bosco, but she'd still be alive.

"Do you want to say something?"

He didn't respond with words or with a nod, and she knew he wasn't going too.

Jane hadn't spoken to anyone besides investigators after they rescued him, and when he spoke, it was as if he wasn't there.

He told them everything, and he left his emotions behind him.

He wasn't afraid, upset, homicidal, or suicidal—no, he was nothing, and he felt nothing even as Hightower informed him of her death.

She hadn't died right away, according to Hightower, a single bullet to the chest.

Adam Redders or Red John; had been the one who had killed himself—but not before he had set the place ablaze.

Jane apparently had trouble remembering, because he had knocked himself unconscious and had awoken in the hospital, people swarming around him to see if he was all right, to see if he was in any pain. He hadn't said a word, he refused to nod, and he refused to eat, which made things difficult all around.

He had planned starve away, to die in the most painful way possible—he deserved to suffer.

Van Pelt, always the gentle soul, had taken to staying with him when she wasn't working to make sure he didn't run his life into the ground—they'd never say anything, but Jane had the strangest idea that Van Pelt actually understood how he felt.

"Do you want to say goodbye?"

The word, "goodbye" made him feel ill. Jane realized, as the urn was stolen from him and opened—dark ashes scattered amongst the water, floating away into the not-so distant horizon where the sky faded into twilight—that his idea of a goodbye, growing old together, remaining on the Serious Crimes Unit and for the both of them to die together, was never going to happen.

Jane allowed the soft sound of crashing waves to carry him away, as he tried to block the soft sobs and the touch of comfort on his arm. He slowly turned to face the party assembled, and tore his arm from Van Pelt's grasp—his legs pumping to take him away from the situation, from the memories. He stopped the moment his green-blue gaze focused toward the outer limits of the beach to find a petite dark haired woman, who seemed to be staring at him in sadness, and the energy that had once possessed and propelled him forward, faded away.

He collapsed to his knees, and cried.

It was the only thing he knew to do.

* * *

**Author's Note of Importance:**

I said a few chapters back that I wanted to end the story in the way that felt natural to me, and I managed to do just that. I have no doubt that though I wasn't aiming to kill anyone off in this fic (I even told almost everyone I wasn't planning to kill anyone, and I'm sorry for that…apparently, characters don't listen to me…) there's a good reason for the way I ended the story, and my reasoning for that may or may not have to do with a possible sequel.

I realized after I wrote chapter 15, the only way to finish the story in a natural way was to conclude the story in a bittersweet matter.

Thank you to all the reviewers, readers and alerters for following this story—I'd list you all, but there's a long list and you all deserve cookies for trusting me to write something amazing. I hope I did it well.


End file.
